Casino Blues
by RazberryBreeze
Summary: As the owner of several successful casinos, Spike Spiegel believed that Vicious, his only competitor, posed a minor threat. But when a beautiful blonde, sent by him enters the picture, Spike must find someone else to do his dirty work. JxSxF.
1. Card Counter

**Note:** Here we go. I wrote this on a whim… reviews appreciated!… I think this story is pretty original so let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer:** Do not own CB. Obviously.

* * *

Any night on Mars was just as hot as the day in December. A young, lanky entrepreneur sat in his limo with the air conditioning on, his head back and his eyes closed. Had it not been for the meeting his executives urgently insisted he attend, he would have kept to himself in his mansion, spending most of the night in his indoor pool to cool off.

The communicator beside the easy-going millionaire flashed red, as insistent for his attention as his executives, but long ago he'd chosen to ignore it.

"Mr. Spiegel."

The gruff voice caused him to open his eyes. Lazily he reached over and pressed a button on a small control panel, causing the tinted window that separated him from the driver to lower.

"Yeah, Jet?"

"You really have to get out this time. We'll be at the casino in less than five minutes. I know you haven't bothered to look at a clock, but the meeting has nearly started."

Spike nodded and sat up, not sure whether he was going to hassle his limo-driver and body guard combo anymore. Truthfully, Jet Black, an ex-cop, had been the best for the double-role position than the string of others Spike had hired before him.

And it wasn't that he needed the protection-his skills were fine tuned enough to fend for himself-but appearances, at least in the minds of his execs, were important.

Spike lifted his arms and stretched, the jacket of the tuxedo he wore making the simple task harder to do than he would have liked. Back at his mansion, a blue suit hung in his closet he would have preferred to wear above all else, but again, his execs stressed appearances.

The limo gradually began to slow until eventually it was at a stop. Jet turned around in his seat, looking back at his young boss expectantly.

Spike shrugged and leaned back again, putting his arms behind his head.

"Do I have too?"

"Yes. You do."

Jet's voice was firm, and Spike could tell he was growing ever more annoyed. A slight, handsome smile spread across his mouth. "Just once more around the block?"

* * *

**Session 1: Card Counter**

* * *

When the door to the conference room opened on the highest floor of the casino, the flur of chitchat among the executives halted. Spike walked casually into the suddenly silent room, feeling awkward about being stared at, but not showing it.

"Evening gentlemen. Sorry I'm late."

Forty-three minutes late, to be exact.

He moved toward the end of the room and sat down in a large chair at the head of the table. Putting his feet up on the edge, he got comfortable, and didn't cease to notice the brief look of disapproval that flashed along the other's faces.

Dare someone ask him to put his feet down.

No one in the room had the authority to. Their living depended on him, and they were lucky enough he obeyed their requests about body-guards and tuxedos.

Most of the time.

"We have a rather pressing matter that needs to be discussed," the leader of the execs, at the other end of the table announced. "Mr. Spiegel, guards reviewing security tapes have discovered a card-counter. Now we've taken care of many of these in the past, but after identifying the woman, we've discovered that she's already employed in Vicious's string of casinos."

He was a tall man, dressed in a nice suit, but the front of his hair nearly covered the thick-rimmed glasses he wore.

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?"

"Yes. And we understand that in the past, you and Vicious were close until your competitive businesses drove you apart. Now we believe this woman could be a spy of his, trying to blend in, although she terribly gave herself away by cheating at several games of Blackjack."

There was a pause.

"Do you know if there is information she could be after, Mr. Spiegel?"

For a few minutes, Spike was silent as several thoughts went across his mind. Yes, there was vital information about his casinos Vicious would love to discover. But, only he knew what it was. No where was it written down, stored in a computer, or locked in a safe.

Surely, Vicious would know that?

He himself undoubtedly had information about his own string that he trusted to hide only inside his mind, never to be shared. Really, a spy would be useless… Vicious had to be smarter than that.

Taking down his feet, Spike stood up from his chair. "I want to see the tape."

His execs seemed to smile and nod in unison, happy that their boss had taken a matter they brought up serious for once. The lead exec led him out of the room and down the grey hallway toward the elevator. They turned to a door on the left and walked inside, neglecting to turn on any lights. The black and white surveillance flashing across multiple small TV screens provided enough illumination to see.

A security man turned around in his chair to see them, a little surprised at Spike's rare appearance.

"Show us the tape of the blonde card counter spotted last night," the exec said.

The security man nodded, and within moments, the recording played at a decent angle on one of the larger screens. The exec glanced at Spike, who's eyes never left the woman. He stepped toward the TV slowly, taking in as much as he could about her. She was unfamiliar, but her hair, faintly waved, was as beautiful as her face.

"We don't need to worry about Vicious sending a spy, if that's what he's doing," Spike informed calmly.

Immediately the exec's expression showed his surprise. "Well… if you're certain of that, Mr. Spiegel. But I still think we should have someone look into-"

"I am. And no."

"She still card-counted. The woman must be taken care of in that respect at least."

Spike turned away from the screen, the glow of the surveillance no longer along his face.

"You're absolutely right. I'll take care of her."

"What? But that's not how its done! The owner of a casino going after-"

Spike started to whistle, interrupting him. He walked toward the door and twisted the handle, opening it and preparing to leave. But before he walked out into the hallway, he peered over his shoulder.

"I appreciate your concern, but I don't really care for the way things are done." Spike smiled then. "If I were you, I'd be careful next time to remember who's in charge."

After that, he left. Glancing at the security man, the exec sighed. He could still hear whistling growing faint down the hall, until the sound disappeared all together.


	2. Lady Luck

The casino, as it had been the night before, was crowded. The young blonde sat patiently in her chair at the Blackjack table, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. A few men sitting around her flashed constant glances, although she pretended not to notice.

It wasn't such an usual thing. Most places she went, she didn't fail to turn a few heads.

The dealer reached over and extracted cards for the next round, delivering them smoothly. Julia sighed and turned her head a little in each direction. She was waiting, and the longer she had too, the more bored and impatient she felt.

Through the next round she did all she could to make her cheating more obvious than the night before. Cameras were everywhere. Cheating wasn't tolerated. How was it that no one had approached her yet?

Reaching down, Julia flipped over her last card and smiled. The men sighed and sat back, rubbing either their necks or their faces in disappointment of the loss.

"Sorry, gentlemen," she said softly as a tower of chips was pushed her way. "But I have lady luck on my side tonight."

* * *

**Session 2:** Lady Luck.

* * *

From behind, someone lightly tapped her shoulder. Julia turned without hesitance, hoping it to be a server walking around to take orders. Her mouth was a bit dry and she would love a few innocent vodka tonics to lighten a boring evening.

But the moment she saw who stood behind her, the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile.

"You're not the server I was hoping for."

His smirk, admittedly, was attractive.

"But you're every bit of what I like to run into. If you don't mind, I'd like it if you joined me at the bar."

Julia raised her eyebrows. His confidence was impressive, and he had made an offer she couldn't refuse. Especially when it fit so nicely into the plan.

"Just one moment. My winnings-"

"Will be safe. Thomas, make sure the lady's winnings are ready for her when she leaves tonight."

The dealer, having never been asked to do such a thing, merely nodded and acted as if he knew what to do. If there was anything Spike loved about his staff, it was the fact that they simply did as he wished, and didn't question him. Only with the exception, however, of his execs.

Gesturing for Julia to follow him, he started his way through the crowd. She obeyed, but purposely strayed a few paces behind.

When they reached the bar, Spike slid coolly onto his stool at the end of the counter. He realized, for a moment, that this was the first time in a while he had actually visited the main area. Normally when he wanted to avoid a conference, he rode the main elevator up and down a few times once he was actually in the building. The security cameras there were checked far less often.

Julia sat down on a stool adjacent to him, her features calm and demeanor sophisticated. Everything was flowing well, and would continue to do so if she kept his mind off her card counting. For a moment she peered down at a menu of drinks.

"What's your name?"

She looked up.

"Julia Von Felt."

Spike nodded, despite the fact that her last name had come as a bit of a surprise. It wasn't the one listed on her personal profile, which he had researched thoroughly.

He smiled a little.

It must be a fake, naturally. And at the same time, she might as well have made it exotic.

"Yours?"

"Spike Spiegel."

Julia crossed her arms on the bar, her hair cascading down the front of her shoulders. What she had assumed before was now confirmed. The handsome stranger was indeed Spike Spiegel, the owner of the Red Card Casino strips.

Vicious had been right after all. Her obvious cheating, beauty and employment at his casinos would make him curious enough to take matters into his own hands.

The bartender approached them then, and they gave him their orders. Julia settled her gaze on Spike afterward.

"You own this casino, and many others along the west coast," she said casually. "After you said your name, I remembered an article I had read about you in the paper."

Spike raised his eyebrows and took a drink of his liquor mix.

"I'm in the paper, huh? I bet you saved that article."

Julia smiled, falling a little for his skill at being charming-even when he didn't mean to be, or perhaps, did. She reached for her drink and took a sip, reminding herself he had to be interested in her, not the other way around.

"Actually it was raining that day. I used the paper to cover my head as I walked home. I'm sorry, but I threw it away since it was all wet."

He smiled, knowing she had purposely meant to chide him behind her sincerity.

"Listen, you're a beautiful woman Julia. However there's another reason why I invited you to have a drink with me." He paused to finish the contents of his small glass. "Maybe you already know what it is."

She brought her eyes away from him and stared at her half-empty glass.

"My lady luck concerns you."

"If by that you mean your skill at card counting, yes, it does. I know you work for another casino, one that belongs to my once friend, Vicious. And by the way he punishes cheaters… surely you know it's strictly against the rules."

Julia's eyes widened. Looking into his gaze, she forgot her assignment and started to lose her calm composure. Vicious had supplied her with no back up, no other sorry pawns ready to defend her if she was indeed found out.

It seemed that his confidence in Spike's attitude toward beautiful women had been under-estimated, and now, he was free to have her dealt with.

"What are you going to do, Mr. Spiegel?"

Julia watched as he stood from his stool and put his hands in the pockets. The nice suit he wore he looked incredible in, yet somehow, it still seemed out of character.

"Nothing. So long as you call me Spike."

He turned to leave her, believing the quick shot of fear he had instilled would be enough to make his point. Walking away, he felt it was a shame that he hadn't gotten her number. However he hadn't moved more than a few feet before her voice caused him to stop.

"Wait."

Spike looked over his shoulder. Julia was still sitting at the bar, but she was writing something down on the back of what appeared to be a small business card. When she finished and slid off her stood, she walked over to him, standing no more than a few inches away.

The loud voices around them seemed to fade, and Spike couldn't understand why her eyes, then her mouth, then her neck had such a silencing effect on world.

Julia held out her hand and he accepted the business card. Just as he read over what she had jotted down, she kissed him lightly on the cheek and whispered, "Thank you."

********

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Note: Albino. Cream. Puff., you saved this story! Thanks for the review.


	3. Professionals Aren't Desperate

The room was no more dark than normal. Julia quietly closed the door behind her and walked a few feet away to an elegant, but stiff chair pressed against the wall. Sitting down, she saw Vicious, and that his back was to her. He stood before one of the long windows in the rather plain room, over-looking the front property of his gloomy estate. Before he even said anything to acknowledge Julia had arrived, he always made her wait.

She crossed her legs in slight annoyance. Apparently he had wanted to discuss something with her, so he needed to get on with it.

It was a bold move on her part, but Julia decided to get what would ultimately be a short conversation started. Her date began in an hour, and she wasn't ready. However, if it had been to meet any other guy, she would have gone as she was, dressed in a white blouse, black skirt and light trench coat.

But, he was different. And her effort to look her best for him was not an effective way to supress the small but growing affection.

"I met him, Spike Spiegel, like you instructed," Julia said, her voice firm but lacking of emotion. "He took the bait, just as you said he would."

Vicious smiled a little. Really, it could all happen so easily.

"Julia... I assume you invited him to the opera tonight."

"Yes."

"Leave then. I believe your date starts in an hour. It would be bad to be late."

Rising from her chair, Julia left the room. Why she had to meet him for such short interaction she didn't understand. A phone call would have been more sensible, but unfortunately, she could never suggest it. Two men were waiting to escort her, back to the small black car she had arrived in.

Despite the rain, she slipped on her sunglasses and ignored them.

* * *

**Session 3:** Professionals Aren't Desperate.

* * *

Opera. It was a funny thing the beautiful and mysterious woman had invited him to go, because he hadn't seen a performance in years, and there was a good reason. He couldn't stand it. Admittedly Spike could hear the beauty emitted from the remarkable voices, but it was simply sitting still for a prolonged period of time that bothered him so much.

The limousine gradually slowed and parked in front of the back entrance to a bar and restuarant, one not far from the opera-house. He thought he might as well be in a pleasant state of mind after a few drinks before his date started in an hour. Had Julia not been both beautiful and mysterious-he more than likely would not have shown.

But she... he couldn't quite figure her out, to say the least. He liked the kind that kept his curiosity peeked.

Spike reached for the door handle to let himself out, but before he could grasp it, the door opened. Jet peered down at him. The body guard was dressed in a dark suit, and not only that, but the fact he had opened the door was a sign he cared just as much about appearances as the execs.

Spike frowned. He possessed millions of woolongs, controlled more than thirty casinos throughout Mars, yet could not even open a door.

Maybe he should just fire everyone.

"I know, you hate it when I do this," Jet said, after catching the expression on his face once he stepped out. "But I'm not exactly thrilled either."

"Sometimes I wonder if the execs have a camera on me at all times."

Jet laughed shortly. "I wouldn't doubt it."

Spike smiled. "Well in that case..."

He removed his suit jacket and tossed it inside the limo, then loosened his tie completely. Sighing contently (and somewhat victoriously as well), he slipped his hands inside his pockets.

"That's better."

Jet was a little surprised, but only for a few moments as his boss began to walk away. He smirked and pushed the door shut. Not even the corporate life could refine such an easy-going rebel as Spike Spiegel.

* * *

By the time he was on his fourth drink, Julia still hadn't left his mind. The thought of her had made him unusually quiet and Jet was a bit concerned. He finished his drink and asked a passing waitress for another before turning to look at Spike, who gazed at the small glass in his hands.

Before Jet could speak, he blurted, "Maybe I should consider having someone trail her..."

Jet raised his eyebrows. "Who are you talking about?"

"The other night, I met this woman, Julia... at my casino. The executives noticed her because she was card counting, then mentioned her to me because she works for Vicious."

The waitress returned with Jet's drink. He tightly grasped the large, cool glass, not liking the sound of what he had heard so far. So, Vicious had decided to break the agreement. The agreement about keeping their business endeavors completely seperate, even when it came to something as small as current employees visiting the other's casinos.

"You're thinking this woman is a spy?"

Jet took a long drink from his glass. Spike continued to stare into his.

"My executives were convinced, and I wasn't at first. But now... I'm not so sure."

Feeling a surge of understanding and confidence, Jet replied, "I wouldn't worry about it. If she was a spy, this woman-Julia-she was a pretty bad one. Like you said, she got herself caught by cheating. Vicious wouldn't want that."

"So it seems," Spike muttered.

"Besides, I thought you handled it. We'll just deal with her the way we do anyone else if she comes back."

Jet finished his glass, proud of his perfect diagnosis of the situation. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I'm going on a date with her tonight, Jet."

There was a pause, and suddenly, the old man erupted.

"You're... _what?_"

Spike ignored his surprise. "Her cheating was too deliberate, and I have a hard time believing she did it just to go to the opera with me."

He peered at Jet, who still looked at him incrediously.

"I'd trail Julia myself, but I don't have the time."

Slowly, the body guard started to regain himself. He opened his mouth to argue about the date and list all the reasons about why it wasn't a good idea, but realized it would ultimately get him nowhere. Not with that slim cowboy. He crossed his arms on the table, irritated. If he wanted to date the lousy spy, let him. The best Jet could do, although he hated it, was at least answer his question.

"Then hire a professional. That's what PI's are for."

Spike sat back in his seat, deciding to neglect his last drink for the evening. Perhaps being in a pleasant state of mind wasn't the most wise idea.

"Listen, professionals aren't desperate. For this, I need someone... _raw_, so-to-speak, not trained."

As if it had been planned, heads went up at the sound of a sudden commotion at the end of the bar. Spike and Jet watched as three large men stood near the exit, having been on their way out the door, before a waitress stopped them.

She was tall, thin, and her striking purple hair only added to the flare she so evidently exuded. As slight as she was, she had one of the three large men by the collar, his two friends to afraid to touch her and possibly save him.

"Listen, buddy," she snapped. "I served you _politely_ and _timely_ all night. And for what? _No tip?_"

Eyes widened, in shock of the woman's attitude, but Spike only smirked. "Someone who's desperate for money."

* * *

**Note:** Thanks again for reviews :) They keep me inspired. Anyway, I'll probably be re-editing the first chapter and re-posting it... it'll pretty much be the same, but with minor changes. Hope you liked this!


	4. The Deal

Faye leaned against the brick wall outside the restuarant, her eyes narrowed at the young man in front of her. He hadn't said anything yet, and she was beginning to wonder why she even accepted his request to step outside a moment.

Crossing her arms, Faye wore the waiting uniform which she despised. A white, long sleeved blouse covered her top with ruffles down the front, then around her thighs a short black skirt. The young woman's legs were covered in matching black tights and her feet placed perfectly in heels.

"First tell me who you are, then I'll hear what you have to say," Faye said shortly.

Spike smiled slightly. By her expression and stiff posture, it was apparent the sore attitude from minutes earlier was still with her.

"My name is Spike Spiegel," he said smoothly. "I was impressed by the scene you caused in there, especially since it was over a tip."

"I deserved the money, that's all. Any woman on her own would have done the same."

"I understand completely. Let me guess, it's hard to pay the rent."

Faye raised her eyebrows, out of surprise and confusion. Yes, the very small, smelly apartment she paid more for than it was worth among other costs of living were hard to meet, but what exactly was he after?

"Listen, if all you've got to say is what I already know, I need to be going," she replied, pushing off the wall. "My shift isn't over."

The young woman push her hair back and started to leave the alley. However, Spike's voice stopped her.

"How'd you like to have two thousand woolongs in your pocket by the end of the night, Miss Valentine."

* * *

Session 4: The Deal.

* * *

Faye turned, her eyes wide.

"How do you know me?" she asked. Her voice was no longer hard but revealed her sudden vulnerability. "And what do you mean, two thousand woolongs?"

Spike turned to face her, and his calm gaze met her unsettled one.

"I saw the name tag you're wearing. And about the money, I can easily increase that for a small favor."

Faye's heart was pounding. She glanced down. There was indeed a silver name tag pinned on her chest reading F. Valentine. Somehow, she had forgotten about it.

But the favor? Maybe she never should have caused a scene after all. The tall, handsome man was acting reasonably enough, but who knew what he was into.

She stood a little straighter, trying to regain her confidence. "Exactly what sort of favor are you talking about?"

"I think I've come into some trouble lately. I own the Red Card casino string, so I'm more busy than I like. If you trail someone for me and figure out who they're working for, I'll pay you nicely for it."

The moment he mentioned that he owned the Red Card casinos, Faye heard little else. Immediately she could see dollar signs, and feel each woolong she could imagine between her fingers. A pretty smile formed along her mouth and she was more than ready to accept the deal.

"Mr. Spike Spiegel, was it?" Faye said politely, gradually closing the space between them. "You've got yourself a spy. Professional trackers are really starting to slip out of style anyway. I'll get what you want without all the hassle."

She stopped only inches from him. Her eyes fixated on his, and Faye was convinced she could woe him, just as easily as she had done any other man. Spike continued to smile in amusement.

"It's nice you care so much about it."

"Oh I do, you'll see."

"But a professional wouldn't. After all, they're not quite as desperate."

"Definitely. Wait-_what?"_

Faye stepped back abruptly and the skin above her nose wrinkled. His nerve astounded her. As she tried to hide her embarrasment Spike started to walk away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"The opera starts in twenty minutes. Unless you have one fancy enough, we need to get you a dress."

Spike continued on, and before he reached the end of the alley, a limo pulled up beside the sidewalk. Faye remained where she was, having gone from suprise, confusion, anger and now back to surprise in a matter of ten minutes.

"Opera?"

* * *

After a shopping venture full of arguement and that lasted longer than Spike would have liked, he and Faye were finally back in the limo.

Jet started the engine and pulled quickly out into traffic, taking it upon himself to raise the tinted glass that opened his area to theirs. He wasn't fond of the firey woman Spike had picked out and decided to stay out of it.

Faye sat on the leather seat in the back and smoothed her dress, a little annoyied. Really, was it such a _bad_ thing that she tried on fifteen dresses to find which one she looked _best_ in, then tried on several pairs of heels to find the _right_ match?

Reaching up she pulled back her hair and twisted it, then clipped it with the clip she normally wore while waitressing.

Suddenly, Spike leaned forward.

Faye watched as he opened a small compartment on beneath the long tinted window. From it, he withdrew a small gun and handed it to her. Faye furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm going to need this? I thought I was just keeping an eye out."

"You probably won't need it, but its never a bad thing to be prepared."

"Are you armed?"

"Yeah."

She glanced at his suit jacket, suspecting a holster and gun beneath it on the left side. Only now, with the appearance of guns, did she begin to realize what she had really gotten into.

"Where do you expect me to put this?"

The black, silky dress hardly had enough fabric to cover her as well as the gun. A few seconds passed before Spike thought of something and reached back into the small compartment, withdrawing an arm holster.

"Put this around one of your legs," he said. "It's small enough for the gun."

Faye nodded and started to apply the holster before she shot him a look.

"Do you have to _stare_?"

Spike's ears became suddenly warm.

"_I'm not staring_. I'm making sure you fasten it right, Valentine."

"Call me Faye. And look the other way, _please_."

Deciding not to argue any further, he turned his head and frowned. Fine. If it fell off during the course of the night and she was thrown out, that was her own problem.

The limo halted.

Faye opened her door and stepped out, Spike following not far behind. A lot of sophisticated people swarmed the streets and were making their way inside. Faye observed them then the giant, lit up opera house, witnessing a life so different from the one she had known.

When Spike was beside her, she linked her arm with his.

"What are you doing?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Isn't this part of the plan? That I pretend to be your date?"

"Not quite. I already have one. She's the woman you'll be trailing tonight and in the future. Her name is Julia."

He slipped his arm from hers and Faye glared, feeling embarassed again. Spike reached into his pocket and withdrew a ticket, handing it to her.

"You'll need this to get in."

"I'm guessing that once we're inside, we don't know each other right?"

Spike smiled. "Exactly. Just have my back, and I'll have yours."

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****Note**: R&R! You know you want too :)


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